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“No, I’m in a fucking jockstrap, Dan,” Rob said.

“I know, but you said to always ask just in case,” I responded.

“Come on, Dan,” Rob said. “We don’t have long.”

I followed Dan into his bedroom. It smelled like his wife. He immediately got down on all fours on the carpet and aimed his big butt toward me showing off his smooth pink hole.

I’ve been fucking my best friend’s Dad for a few months now, so I knew what he wanted — a nice long rim job and a hard fuck. My cock was hard under my athletic shorts as my mouth watered at the site of his tight hole. I dropped my shorts and boxers on top of my shoes and got down on my knees behind him and smelled his freshly-cleaned ass before running my tongue slowly from the bottom to the top of his pucker. He let out a low moan as soon as I slid my tongue in his butt.

“I’ve been waiting for that tongue, boy,” Rob said as I held his butt cheeks in my hand. “That’s it, baby, get my hole nice and wet for your big cock.”

It all started similar to today — Rob answered the door in a pair of shorts and no shirt one day when I came to pick up my gym bag from his house. He told me Lance wasn’t home but that I could go get the bag from his room. When I returned to the first floor, I found Rob on his back on the couch completely nude as he rubbed his fingers over his hole. We’ve been feverishly carnal for each other ever since — texting constantly with pics and sexy talk until I could slide my thick 18-year-old cock deep inside him.

“You taste so good, babe,” I said between lustful slurps of my man’s big ass.

I could munch on his hole for hours, but I knew he said we didn’t have much time, so I gave his rosebud a few more minutes of my mouth before standing and slapping my leaking cock against his butt cheek. My pre-cum slid all over his white ass before I finally slid it over his slot. He moaned as my large cut cock head teased him.

“Fuck me already, stud,” he begged. “I haven’t had your cock inside me for days.”

I quickly slid deep inside my best friend’s Dad and began jackhammering his man pussy hard — really fucking hard. I wanted to stay in his moist, warm hole forever, but I knew I wouldn’t last long. I haven’t touched my dick in more than a day and needed to bust my load.

“You ready for my load, babe?” I asked Rob as I continued to thrust. “I need to nut.”

“Spray my insides, stud,” Rob responded. “If we have time, I’m want to ride that cock for a second load.”

I immediately filled him with an enormous amount of baby batter as he worked hard on his cock. I was mid-shot when I heard him make his normal jizz noise below me and knew he’d be cleaning his seed from his wife’s carpet instead of riding my dick again.

“Fuck, I needed that,” I said still slowly fucking him as he finished.

“Dad, you home?” We heard my buddy Lance call from the kitchen as the door to the garage closed hard behind him.

“Fuck, get dressed,” Rob commanded as he pulled of my dick.

“Yeah,” he exhaled in a puff of smoke. “She makes me take it outside now that we have the baby.”

“Babies change things,” I sympathized.

“You’re telling me,” he agreed, adjusting his package.

“Julie not putting out for you?” I asked, glancing down at his bulge.

“Fuck no,” he spat, taking a drag on his cigar. “She hasn’t spread her legs for me since well before the baby was born.”

“You jacking—emptying the pipes?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded in a puff of smoke. “But I’m wearing out my right hand, if you get me.”

“I get you,” I laughed. “I’ve gotta a Fleshlight—one of those pussy pocket things—if you wanna borrow it.”

“Damn. That’d be great,” he perked up. “But—shit. I couldn’t let Julie find it. She’d have a fit.”

“You can use it at my place,” I offered. “I can put on some porn for you.”

“Yeah? That’d be great,” he beamed. “Is now good? My balls feel like they’re gonna pop.”

“Sure, come on over,” I motioned across the way to my place.

“Should I put out my cigar?” he inquired.

“Nah, it’s cool if you wanna smoke it at my place,” I assured him. “I like the aroma.”

Buzz followed me to my house, where I put on some pussy porn and told him to make himself comfortable on the couch while I fetched the Fleshlight from my bedroom.

“I—uh—sort of used it last night,” I admitted while handing the Fleshlight to him. “You want me to clean it out for you first?”

“Nah,” he refused. “We used to pass one of these things around my fraternity house. We never cleaned it out. All that spooge makes for great lube.”

“Well—I’ll let you get to it then,” I started to back away, trying to hide the raging boner I had from envisioning all those frat guys dumping their loads into the same Fleshlight.

“You’re welcome to join me,” Buzz offered. “It won’t bother me. Jacking to porn together was a nightly ritual in my fraternity.”

“Uh—sure,” I agreed, trying to conceal my elation. Was this really happening?!

Gripping the cigar between his teeth, Buzz unzipped his shorts and pulled out a massive cock—easily nine inches with a thick, veiny shaft. Nodding at me, he encouraged me to do the same. As I unzipped and unleashed my eight-incher, Buzz and I checked out each other like two guys discreetly comparing cocks at the gym.

“Fuck, you’re hung,” I exclaimed, feeling obliged to acknowledge the majesty of his endowment.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “The guys in my fraternity nicknamed me ‘Tube Steak’ back in the day. But you’ve also got yourself a nice piece of meat,” he said, gesturing at my cock.

An awkward quiet descended upon us as we each directed our attention to the porn on the TV screen. A blonde bitch with big tits and a butterfly tramp stamp was riding a muscled, tatted Harley dude on his motorcycle. Gripping the cigar between his teeth, Buzz grasped the Fleshlight in his hand and began to push his big cock into it, breaching the silicone folds of its faux cunt.

“Fuuuck,” he exhaled, slowly working the pussy proxy up and down his thick shaft. “I forgot how realistic this thing feels. You want to shoot in it after I’ve dumped my load?”

“Sure,” I affirmed, slowly jacking my own cock. “But you just enjoy it for now. I’ll just edge until you’re done.”

“Damn—I love that it can take all of me,” Buzz observed, pushing deep into the Fleshlight, mashing its orifice against his hairy balls. “The only thing that would make this perfect would be if I didn’t have to hold it.”

“Lemme work it for you,” I offered, not waiting for his response as I gripped the Fleshlight and took charge of his pleasure, giving his cock some slow, deliberate strokes with the flesh-toned cum catcher.

“Yeah—just like that,” he directed, taking a drag on his cigar. “Damn. You’re good at this.”

“I just know what works for me,” I shrugged, climbing onto his lap to work the Fleshlight at a better angle. “Just relax and let me get you off.”

Bobbing up and down on him, with both of my hands gripping the Fleshlight, it became readily apparent that I was acting out a simulation of riding his cock. Removing the cigar from his mouth and resting on the edge of an end table next to the couch, Buzz moved his muscular arms behind his head. With his eyes upon me, he watched intently as I pretended to ride his big dick with the Fleshlight. It was time to make my move.

Pulling the Fleshlight off his cock, I dropped it to the floor as I straddled Buzz’s cock, pressing his helmet head against my eager hole. Our eyes locked, mine searching his for approval. With a slight nod of his head, Buzz gave his consent as I sat upon his cock.

“HOLY FUCK,” Buzz cried out, his big dick up my ass, his balls mashed against my tight hole. “Christ, your hole is tight.”

“You ever fuck a guy?” I asked, bobbing my stretched hole up and down on his thick shaft, mimicking the rhythm I had just employed with the Fleshlight.

“First time,” he admitted, his hands moving to my thighs as he began to thrust in and out of me, rocking his hips to match my rhythm. “It’s fucking unreal. I can’t believe how damn good it feels—way better than pussy.”

“Wait until you see how good it feels when you’re shooting your load up my ass,” I taunted, increasing my pace, grinding down hard on him with every downbeat.

“You keep riding me like this,” he cautioned, “and you’re gonna have my nut in … Aww, SHIT … Aww, FUCK … Here it comes, dude.”

Instantly, I could feel Buzz’s big cock throbbing inside of me—spurt after spurt of his backed-up load flooding my guts. I reveled in the warmth of his seed as it filled my deepest recesses. Holding me down on his cock, Buzz refused to let go until his balls reached empty.

“Fuck, I needed that,” Buzz exhaled as he released me and I climbed off of him. I reached down between my legs and swiped up some of his load just as it escaped my wrecked hole, feeding it to myself. “Damn, you’re a dirty fucker,” he exclaimed.

“Thanks for the dick … and cum,” I winked. “You wanna come back tomorrow and dump another load in me?”

“Tomorrow?” Buzz scoffed, reaching for his cigar and taking a post-coital drag. “I’m gonna text Julie and tell her I’m watching the game over here with you today. Now get your ass on the floor. I wanna fuck you like a dog while I enjoy this cigar.”

The party was winding down and only a few of your mutual friends were still there. Everyone was on the couch watching tv, pretty beat after a night of drinking and smoking. You noticed your ex staring at you for a while, but didn’t return his gaze. You didn’t want it to get weird. Suddenly, he kicked off his boat shoes and stretched his leg out on the couch towards you, placing his big, meaty foot only a few inches away from you. That got your attention. Sweat broke out over your forehead. That’s what he used to do to signal he was ready for his feet to be worshipped, usually after a run or a workout or a night drinking. You loved when he stretched his manly, sweaty foot out for you to suck on, while he told you how lucky you were to be licking the glistening musk off his toes. You never could resist. But there were people here! What was he thinking?! 

You looked at him finally, and saw the same burning fire in his eyes he used to look at you with when he’d dominate you. Your eyes fixed on his and he grinned smugly, knowing what he was doing to you. Knowing the gesture looked totally ordinary and harmless to everyone else in the room as it sent you into a fevered rush, fighting for control. 

You looked away, but your eyes just landed on his beefy, thick calves, swelling with muscle. You remembered how the thick hair felt as you’d run your hands through it. You looked straight, trying to ignore what was happening to you. You saw him wiggle his toes invitingly out of the corner of your eye, and strained to look away. But eventually the smell hit your nose. The smell was always what got you. That’s how the tradition of stretching his leg out started. Even on nights when you hadn’t been in the mood, once you got a few whiffs of the musky, manly stench his feet let off, you’d be on all fours, naked, begging to inhale and lick them. 

It started to seep into your nose and you felt that familiar, old fog coming over you. “No” part of you thought, but your body was on autopilot now, seeking out things it knew would make it overflow with pleasure. The smell filled your mind deeper and deeper, and you knew you were hungry for it. Turning back into his sub. After finally breaking up with him and holding out so long, he’d gotten you again. You’d had a chance to get away, but now he was making you his again.  Being friendly had all been part of his plan.  He had wanted this all along.  

What was worse was that deep, deep down inside you, part of you had wanted this all along too.

He wiggled his feet again and your neck snapped over to look at his beautiful, meaty toes, glistening with a sheen of sweat where the light hit them.  So delicious.  So suckable.  You needed them in your mouth. You looked at him again. “Miss me?” he mouthed, giving his foot another little shake. 

You reflexively flew over to him, the words “yes Daddy” flying off your lips, disregarding everyone else in the room as you sniffed and kissed his big feet.  Uncomfortable, everyone quickly left.

“You’re gonna be my wife now.  I’m not letting you get away this time.  You’re gonna serve me for the rest of your life.  Now lick, boy.”

“Yes, Daddy.  I missed you so much, Daddy,” you said between licks, your body screaming with pleasure as it re-experienced the sweet, salty taste of his sweaty feet for the first time in a while.  They were still warm from being in his shoes- just how you liked them.  Nice and hot and smelly.

“There’s my boy,” he said, voice ringing with power.  It washed over you in waves, activating old instincts deep inside you, guiding your tongue over his body just like the old days.  His strong hand brushed your hair, sending relaxation and warm tingling through you. “Can you believe you ever wanted to leave me?”

“I’m sorry Daddy; I was being dumb and selfish.  All I really want is to serve you.”

“That’s right boy,” he said, hoisting you up onto him.  His strong hands moved over your body, claiming it, sending ripples of pleasure though you. “You said you didn’t want to put up with my shit anymore if I remember, right?  But you do, don’t you?”  His hand pinched your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as you tried to respond. “You want to put up with all my shit, forever if it means you get to lick these sweaty feet, right?”

“Yes Daddy,” you moaned out, collapsing into him, pulling him close, hungry for his familiar warmth.  He held you close, your body melting into his strong grip letting his hands explore as they wanted.  He whispered softly in your ear as he held you, reminding you to think about how right it felt to re-submit to him and how he needed his little sub back.  “I missed you too girl,” he said, his big, manly hands moving to your ass, caressing it.  You shuddered at the warmth flowing into you from him as the caress turned into a tighter grip.   “I’ve had to do all my laundry, cook all my dinners.  All the things I loved about you.”  You slowly lost yourself in his words, in his touch, surrendering into the warmth that emitted from him and that he created in you.

“Don’t worry sir, I’m here to take care of all of that for you now,” you said, “I’m here to serve you, just like I should as your good boy.  I love you.  I love worshipping you.  Serving you pleases me,” you said, completely broken.  Any resistance you had was gone.  You were his again.  

He could tell.  “Take your cock out boy.  I want to show you something.”

You obeyed, your beta body immediately complying to orders from an alpha.  He pulled his thick, strong hammer cock out too.

“Feel mine”, he said.  

You did, relishing in the familiar feeling.  It felt so different than yours, bigger and stronger.  

“You feel that difference boy?  That’s the difference between a man and boy cock.  That’s why you serve me.  Because your body recognizes a superior and knows its role is to obey.  Knows who owns it.  Right?”

“RIght, sir.”

“Compared to this,” he said, his big hand closing around your small cock, His grip was so strong, not just physically but mentally.  LIke he’d gripped your mind, your will, instead of just your cock.  You felt yourself submitting further, becoming totally open to him.  He could do whatever he wanted to you now.  You were helpless, but you loved it.  Loved feeling him taking control of you; loved feeling all the thoughts empty from your head, ready to be filled with new orders.  Daddy’s orders.

“This is a boy cock.  Cuz that’s all you’ll ever be.  Even if you dumped me, you’d just find another guy to make you serve him.  Because that’s all you really want.  Right boy?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Right.  So you’re not going to try to get away again, right?”  

“No Daddy.  I just want to stay here with you now.”

“That’s right boy,” he said, giving your cock a firm tug, “Daddy owns you and this forever now.  Tomorrow morning I’ll break you again, and we’ll send your new boyfriend a video of you begging and pleading to suck on my feet to let him know you guys are over, ok?”

“Ok,” you said pleasantly.  You didn’t know who he was talking about, anyway.

“Now give me your hand.”

“My hand?”

“Daddy needs to put your ring on.”

“Ring?” you asked.

“Don’t forget to call a realtor today,” my wife nagged as she left for work that morning.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “I don’t wanna move. I like this house.”

“You like living on frat row?” she quipped. “I’m sick of the constant noise, the wild parties, and drunk guys puking in our bushes at 3 am.”

“It’s not that bad,” I protested.

“Yes it is,” she insisted, rubbing her swollen, pregnant belly. “And I’m not raising our child next to a frat house.”

We didn’t exactly live next to a frat house, I wanted to point out, but there were about a dozen fraternity house on our street. That was the price for living close to campus. As a young professor, I loved being able to bike to my office and classes. So what if it meant dealing with a few frat parties in the neighborhood? Okay, maybe more than a few.

But the real reason I loved living near all those frat houses was because of how many frat boys were looking to get dicked down by a slightly older guy like me. Don’t get me wrong. Fucking my wife was great. But nothing compares to the savage brutality of shoving your cock up another man’s ass. I should’ve stopped fucking guys when I got married, but it was like asking a junkie to give up his fix.

It didn’t help that scoring a piece of ass in the neighborhood was just too easy. All I had to do was take off my shirt and do just about anything in my front yard—mow the lawn, check the mail, wash the car—and soon some horny frat boy would pass by and chat me up, eager to get in my pants.

That particular afternoon was no different. I was weeding the flowerbeds, shirtless of course, when a twink frat boy passed by on his way back from class, a backpack hanging from one shoulder.

“Nice house,” the frat boy commented. Yet his eyes were on my bulging crotch, sweat dripping down my treasure trail.

“Thanks,” I replied, adjusting my package, the flimsy material of my athletic shorts clinging to my big, sweaty cock. “The house was built in the ‘40s.”

“Wow,” he exclaimed, his eyes traveling up and down my muscular body. “They don’t make them like that anymore.”

“Want to come inside?” I offered. “I could give you a tour … of the bedroom.”

Five minutes later, the frat boy twink was on my bed—the one I share with my wife—with his legs spread wide, my big cock up his ass. While destroying his pretty, pink cunt, I noticed my wife’s eyes staring at me from her wedding picture on the bed table, which turned me on even more, making my cock harder. It felt good to be bad.

“You’re so big,” the frat boy squealed in delight, his eyes rolling back in his head as I pummeled his tight hole.

“You like this big cock?” I asked rhetorically. “You like this big cock in your pretty cunt?”

“Uh huh,” he replied, pulling his legs closer to his chest, opening his hole even more for me. “Your big dick feels so fuckin’ good inside me.”

“You gonna let me cum in you?” I demanded, my pace increasing, my balls slapping his ass with each thrust. “You gonna let me shoot my load up your ass?”

“Yes,” he begged. “Fucking seed me.”

I could take my time with a boy like him, make love to him slowly and deliberately like when I have sex with my wife. But the boy was not my wife, and that made all the difference. His pleasure meant shit to me. My only goal was to fuck his ass and shoot my load. Pump and dump. Innately, he knew that. Deep down inside, he just wanted to be used and dominated. It was a symbiotic transaction. And so I gave him what he wanted, what he needed—my cum.

“Fuck,” I grunted, tipping my head back as I blasted my load into his eager cunt, filling him with my seed on the same bed on which I impregnated my wife just a few months prior.

“That was fucking hot,” he exhaled as I pulled out of him, my pearly load clinging to the downy fur ringing his wrecked hole. “Can we—can we maybe do this again sometime?”

“Sure,” I lied, tossing him his clothes, eager for him to get the fuck out of my house now that the deed was done.

In truth, I rarely fuck the same boy twice. On a college campus full of horny young guys, there are far too many fish in the sea for me to want to eat the same catch day after day. Tomorrow will deliver a new frat boy to devour.

“Did you call a realtor?” my wife asked when she got home from work that day. She was oblivious to the clean sheets on our bed, the cum-stained, sweat-soaked sheets in the washing machine. “We need to sell this house.”

“Sorry, babe,” I apologized, wrapping my strong arms around her, my body freshly showered to remove the earthy funk of sweat, sex, and cum. “We’re not moving. I like it here.”